Rizzoli, Isles and Kate: Shannon and Kelly
by briwd
Summary: A tag to Rizzoli, Isles and Kate, set the night before the story begins. Mainly Gibbs and Kate with hints of Kibbs, and no Maura and Jane, but is connected to the Rizzoli, Isles and Kate story. Kate asks a simple question about a name on the boat Gibbs is building in his basement. What she learns completely changes how she regards her boss. Cameo by Mike Franks.


"We done, Kate?"

Kate Todd had a very, very rare opportunity to boss around her boss.

She didn't want to overdo it - but she rather enjoyed it.

"Clean sheets, Gibbs?" she answered, pointing to the mattress in his master bedroom - the one he was about to vacate indefinitely. "The kind I picked out?"

"Not the kind I'd choose...Kate," he replied. "But they're clean. Mattress is clean, too. New pillows, pillowcases, blankets. All to your specifications, Agent Todd."

"Good," Kate said, with a smile. "On that note, we're done here...and, I believe, we're done with the house."

He'd spent part of his evening here, cleaning it and making it as female-friendly as possible. He - and his former boss, Mike Franks, who was bunking in the living room - had moved his things into the basement.

Finally - after a long day beginning with a phone call in his basement from FBI agent Tobias Fornell - Gibbs was ready to wind down after he, Franks and Kate ate a late dinner. He could smell the steaks from upstairs, and he headed down, while Kate went into the guest bedroom, where she herself was staying indefinitely.

She'd been living there for just three weeks. Yesterday was the first day her living situation hadn't triggered the very unpleasant memory of Ari Haswari.

If Kate had only killed the terrorist in Dr. Ducky Mallard's morgue...then he wouldn't have escaped, he wouldn't have kidnapped her, he wouldn't have...hurt...her, he wouldn't have gone on his rampage that led to threats on dozens of women nationwide.

Kate cried when Gibbs told her about Jessica, the photographer who narrowly avoided death only because of that ex-Marine who led the CSI unit in New York. Gibbs had to talk her out of her melancholy; as he did so, she briefly saw him not as a boss, and as more than a friend. She listened to him softly talk with her about the incident, and saw his kind eyes...realizing that the heart behind them was noble, and strong, and gentle at its core.

An instant later, she pushed that aside. Rule 12. Rule 12.

_Rule. Twelve._

Kate, Gibbs and Franks had dinner - she eating a all-vegetable salad with vinagrette dressing, a whole grain roll and a cup of grapes, the men eating steak and potatoes with beer - and they decided to call it a night.

Franks stayed in the living room, watching whatever he was able to tune in on the very old television set next to the fireplace, while agents Stern and Brennan took over surveillance of the Gibbs house.

Kate followed Gibbs downstairs. She had heard stories about it from Tony's unique perspective and figured DiNozzo was making it all up.

As it turned out, he was telling the honest truth.

There really was a boat, one you could step in and sail on the water if you could get it up the stairs and out the front door.

"Gonna stand there all night with your mouth open, Kate?" she heard Gibbs say, as he walked past her in his NIS sweatshirt and jeans. She saw him walk over to his workbench, pick up two mason jars and put them on a smaller table, then walk back over and grab a bottle of Jim Beam.

He poured her jar a quarter full, his half full, and pushed her jar in front of her.

"I thought Tony was exaggerating," she said, staring at the boat. "He was telling the truth."

"He'd have no reason not to, Kate," Gibbs replied. "Something I do on my downtime. Helps me think, helps me relax...want me to tell you how I build it?"

"Sure," she said, about to learn a side of the man she never would have dreamed of, except for Tony's stories.

Kate listened in silence as Gibbs, in relatively few words, explained how he built the boat, and about the materials he used in building it. The kind of wood he preferred, and why; the satiny finish on the exterior, and how he made it look so smooth; even how many people would fit in it, and how seaworthy it was.

She had forgotten to ask how on earth he'd get the thing out of the basement, but she was so transfixed by the boat it didn't come to mind.

He took her to one side that still needed a finish, and showed her how to sand it just right...she was lost in his voice, his calloused hands on her own, guiding her as she held the sandpaper, showing her how to hold it and where and when to apply pressure on the wood.

Before she knew it, it was 2:30 in the morning (she thought Gibbs had not lost track of the time, down to the second), and she still had questions.

The one that came to mind was the name on the boat: Shannon.

"Who's Shannon?" Kate asked. "Is she someone you know?"

"Knew," Gibbs said, and Kate noticed his demeanor had turned sorrowful, just a tad, which piqued her curiosity.

"Really?" Kate pressed on. "Is she...a relative? A friend? Someone you worked with?"

Gibbs paused, after taking a sip of his bourbon. "Wife," he finally said.

Kate waited to respond, while she rapidly went through what Tony had briefly told her about Gibbs' three ex-wives: Diane Sterling was No. 1, he didn't (yet) know who No. 2 was, and Stephanie Flynn was No. 3. All divorced.

"Was Shannon your second ex-wife?" she blurted out, instantly regretting saying it. Kate thought Gibbs just might raise hell with Tony for telling her about the ex-wives.

"First," he answered, staring at the name on the boat.

Before Kate could reply, Gibbs clarified what he anticipated her follow-up question would be.

"Diane was my first ex-wife," he said. "Shannon was the first woman I married...she's been gone 14 years."

Kate understood who Shannon was, and why she was no longer a presence in Gibbs' life.

"Oh god, Gibbs...I'm so sorry," was what Kate managed to say.

Gibbs walked back to the bench, found a jar of black, water-proof paint, and walked back to the boat. He began to paint inside the outline of the letters.

Then he put the paintbrush inside the paint jar, laid it on the workbench, and reached under it, pulling a picture frame out of a box.

"This is Shannon," he said, pointing to the woman in the picture. "And this is Kelly. Our daughter."

Kate put a hand over her mouth. "Ohmigod." She stared at the picture and tried to take in every detail, from the color of Shannon's hair to how much Kelly took after her parents in appearance.

Then, a tear fell from Kate's cheek onto the picture; she noticed it fall, and began to apologize profusely; "Ohmigod, Gibbs, I'm so sorry, _so_, so sorry, please forgive me-"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Kate," he said, taking the picture from her hands and holding it up for her to see, as much as she wanted to.

"How...how did they..." Kate couldn't bring herself to say the word _die_.

"I was with the Marines, stationed in Iraq," he said, quietly and matter of factly. "Shannon saw a murder committed, she identified the murderer. Before the trial, the murderer went after her and Kelly. He shot the NIS agent assigned to protect them while he drove the van. He died instantly, the van crashed, and they both died in the crash."

Kate was speechless; what else could one say?

She abruptly reached out and hugged him, hoping to give him at least a tad bit of comfort after dredging up possibly the worst memory any man could ever have.

This wasn't Kate comforting a stranger, or coworker, or even her brother or her father. This was Kate hugging and comforting someone she instantly realized she could love, and be loved by.

And Gibbs didn't reject the hug, though before tonight Kate would never have tagged him as a hugger or affectionate, or capable of receiving affection from anyone other than a child.

Gibbs was beginning to see the younger men and women working under him as more than agents in need of his guidance, but not more than his surrogate kids. He would never put himself in a compromising position with any member of his team - physically or emotionally.

And he would never, ever, EVER under any circumstances break Rule 12.

Even when Kate's scent, her touch, her warmth stirred feelings in him he hadn't felt for any woman since...since Shannon. Not lust, not just lust. Love.

Gibbs gently, and quickly, broke the hug, then took the picture and put it back in the box.

"Need to get upstairs, Kate," he told her. "We got a long day tomorrow."

She gathered her senses, and jolted herself back into the professional, private NCIS agent she prided herself on being. "Of course. Good night, Gibbs," she said, with a curt nod.

Kate headed up the stairs, then stopped midway, and glanced back at the boat. "Thank you," she said, and Gibbs nodded his assent. She made her way up and said good night to Mike Franks in the kitchen, then went upstairs as Franks went into the basement.

"I see you had the talk with Kate," Franks said to Gibbs. "About Shannon and Kelly."

"Told her what she needed to know," Gibbs replied, preparing his cot.

"Did you tell her about Pablo Hernandez?" Franks pressed. "Mention him by name? Tell her how he met his maker?"

Gibbs looked at Franks. "Didn't tell her any more than she needed to know," he replied.

"You gonna tell DiNozzo? Ducky? The rest of your team? Hell, does the director even know?"

"Good night, Mike," Gibbs said, and Franks figured it was as good a time as any to call it a night.

"Good night, Jethro," Franks said, heading towards the stairs. "We'll talk about this another time."

Gibbs waved him off, then fell onto his cot, hoping to get some shuteye.

_RING-RING-RING-_

He took a deep breath. _Sleep's overrated anyway_, he told himself as he answered his cell.

"Gibbs."

It was Agent Stern. Kate had ran out of the house, jumped in her car, and drove off in tears.

After a quick tongue lashing to the two agents out front for letting her get away, Gibbs had them put a BOLO out on Kate's car, which made it to the Navy Yard without incident.

Gibbs, on the other hand, had to make his way around an accident and an impromptu police chase. He sped into the Navy Yard parking lot and was met by security guards who saw Kate run into the building, up the stairs and into the bullpen; he spoke with an agent on the third floor, who reported her safe, sound, and asleep behind her desk.

Satisfied with the agent's report, Gibbs walked into the building and took the elevator up to the floor, then checked on Kate himself. He saw Kate sound asleep, her jacket over her shoulders, her head resting on her arms.

Gibbs looked around for a pillow or blanket, then tucked her jacket collar against her collar.

He couldn't resist brushing his fingers against her cheek, and saw her stir; he pulled his hand back, and she fell back into a deep sleep.

"Good night, Kate," he said, as he quietly crept away from the desk, deciding to kill a couple of hours at his favorite cafe. He drove there, thinking of Kate, pushing out every thought about her that broke Rule 12.

It would, many, many months from now, prove to be futile.

**THE END...and the beginning.**


End file.
